The German Invasion of Norway. Geirr H. Haarr
with smaller units, utilising the terrain, pending mobilisation of the main forces and Allied help. A perturbed Pohlman claimed this contradicted other sources, but Pruck was firm; the Norwegians would defend their neutrality – also against the Allies, but with far less vigour and stamina. In particular there was, in Pruck’s opinion, reason to fear the torpedoes and guns of the coastal forts. Though old, they had a considerable sting, and he was certain they would be used. The conversation ended with Pohlman informing Pruck he would come to Oslo in the afternoon of the 8th, ahead of the invasion forces. Pruck promised him all possible help and wished both men good luck. He than hastened to meet General Dietl, who was to lead the troops landing at Narvik. Having been to that city only a few days earlier, Pruck was a unique source of information for the general, adding details to the map of Narvik and its defences. In particular, the information that he had seen the two panserships Norge and Eidsvold at anchor in the harbour was important. Pruck had not met Oberst Sundlo, the Norwegian commander of the garrison in Narvik, but he could confirm that he was definitely pro-German and that Berthold Benecke, the other Abwehr agent in Oslo, held him in high esteem. Whether Sundlo would open fire on a German invasion force, Pruck could not tell.
Having completed his round of briefings, Pruck headed for Tempelhof airport to take the Lufthansa flight back to Oslo, while it was still possible.5
In the early afternoon of Friday 5 April 1940, Rittmeister Friedrich ‘Rudi’ Eickhorn of the 69th Infantry Division reported to his regiment in Stettin on the German Baltic coast. The captain was a reserve officer and acting commander of the Radfahrschwadron of the Aufklärungs Abteilung 169.6 Arriving at the regiment, Eickhorn had to take an oath of secrecy before being given a short outline of Operation Weserübung and informed that he and his squadron would be landed less than four days later in Egersund on the south-western coast of Norway. They would come as friends, to assist the Norwegians against Allied aggression, but should nevertheless take control of the town and secure the landfall of the telegraph cable to Peterhead in Scotland. A briefcase, containing orders, a few maps and some intelligence information, was handed over with orders not to let it out of sight until the mission was accomplished. The astounded Eickhorn left the regiment with mixed feelings. He was pleased that something was happening, but not so sure the Norwegians would be overly enthusiastic about receiving assistance not asked for. Eickhorn went back to his barracks and, locking the door to his office, started studying the maps. His unit would be a tiny part of the invasion, but the success here was as important as the rest of the operation.7
Rittmeister Friedrich ‘Rudi’ Eickhorn, acting commander of the Radfahrschwadron of the Aufklärungs Abteilung 169 of the 69th Infantry Division. (Dalane Folkemuseum)
When Oberleutnant Hans Taraba, commander of 7th Company IR 193 was ordered to march towards the railway station at Neustettin with all his men and equipment, he was sure it was serious and not another exercise. At the station, the C-in-C of the regiment, Oberst Karl von Beeren was waiting and asked jovially:
‘Well, Taraba, where do you think we are going?’
‘Scandinavia, Herr Oberst,’ answered the lieutenant willingly.
Von Beeren, who knew the regiment would be heading for Stavanger and Bergen, laughed although he must have been shocked at the clear-sightedness of his young officer: ‘Why do you think so?’
‘The Altmark affair,’ he replied, to which the oberst answered, ‘Ah well, it could just as likely be Scotland, could it not?’ Taraba was not so sure, but held his tongue.8
‘Weserübung is being implemented according to plan,’ General Jodl wrote in his diary on 5 April.9
For most Norwegians, a quiet weekend lay ahead. Heavy snowfall in the south had slowed the country down more than on a normal Friday afternoon and the weather forecast was not particularly good. For Foreign Minister Halvdan Koht, however, there would be no rest at all. The British and French embassies had jointly asked Koht to receive their respective ministers the same evening. Arriving around 19:00, the British Minister Cecil Dormer and the French Minister Comte de Dampierre handed Koht a joint memorandum from their governments.10 It was a harsh note, claiming that events over the last few months had shown that the Norwegian government was under pressure from Berlin and unable to act independently. Furthermore, Britain and France could no longer accept the continuous flow of supplies to Germany from the Scandinavian countries. It was therefore necessary to ‘notify the Norwegian government frankly of certain vital interests and requirements, which the Allies intend to assert and defend by whatever measures they may think necessary’. Five points followed. The first four were of general character. The last held that the Allied governments were waging war on behalf of the smaller, neutral states and could not accept any advantages for Germany whatsoever. There was no reference to iron ore or any specific demands, but the note concluded that the Allies considered it within their rights,
. . . to take such measures as they may think necessary to hinder or prevent Germany from obtaining from those countries’ resources or facilities which for the prosecution of the war would be to her advantage or the disadvantage of the Allies. . . . The shipping of Norway, Sweden and other neutral countries is attacked and destroyed almost daily by German submarines, mines and aircraft, in defiance of international law and with deliberate disregard for the loss of life involved. The Allies will certainly never follow this example of inhumanity and violence, and when the successful prosecution of the war requires them to take special measures, the Norwegian Government will realise why they do so . . . and the Allied Governments feel confident that this fact will be duly appreciated in Norway.11
Koht was shaken. He had little doubt that this was a warning of imminent naval intervention in Norwegian waters, most likely to provoke a German response. Most of the content of the note was ‘uncalled for’ he told the ministers angrily, particularly the allegations that Norway was commercially and politically under German control and he found the language ‘disdainful, unworthy of His Majesty’s government’. Himself distressed by the note and by Koht’s reaction, Dormer meekly defended his government by claiming the words were directed towards Germany more than Norway.
Koht did not think so. Colban commented from London that he ‘believed the note to be directed mainly at the internal criticism against the Allied governments and their lack of initiatives in the war’ and ‘considered the matter with some ease’, but this did not help much. The Allies had given themselves carte blanche to proceed at will in Norwegian waters and from this point on, Koht was preoccupied with the threat of Allied aggression. The uncertainty of what actions the Allies had in mind and what timetable they worked to only increased the anxiety. Mounting evidence of a parallel threat developing on the German side was dismissed.12
After seeing the Allied ambassadors off, Koht left his office to dine in the US Legation. It does not appear that he even considered informing the prime minister or the other members of the government, far less the Foreign Affairs Committee. Koht arrived late and excused himself to Mrs Harriman, saying that the day ‘had been the most nerve-racking of his official life’. He did not go into any detail, but the American envoy noticed that ‘his face was drawn’ and ‘sensed that the day really had been more tense than usual’.13
On that same evening, the German minister Dr Curt Bräuer entertained a large number of Norwegian politicians, civil servants and officers at an official reception in the German Embassy. The invitation was at short notice and some of the invitees (among them Koht), excused themselves. More than 200 guests came, including Commanding General Laake and several officers of the General Staff. Ministers and officials were present too, as well as a large press corps. Nobody knew why they were there, but after a rich supply of snacks and drinks, the surprise was revealed: there was a film to be shown! Titled ‘Feuertaufe’ or ‘Baptism of Fire’, the reel had come from Berlin that same day with orders for it to be shown as soon as possible to a selected audience. To everybody’s embarrassment it turned out to be a propaganda